A Waking Dream or Nightmare
by morganaDW
Summary: 1-shot set in S3. Sam's fighting to save Dean from his deal when he wakes up one night to find that someone had been watching him & takes advantage of the situation to get Sam right where he wants him. *Scared/tired!Sam & worried!Dean*. (Wincest)


**A Waking Dream or Nightmare**

**Summary:**_1-shot set in S3. Sam's fighting to save Dean from his deal when he wakes up one night to find that someone had been watching him & takes advantage of the situation to get Sam right where he wants him. *Scared/tired!Sam & worried!Dean*. (Wincest) _

**Pairings: **_Dean and Sam._

**Warnings: **_The usual warning for language and for explicit content since this is Wincest. Also due to certain things involved I'll toss out a rape trigger warning even though there is no actual non-con involved I will put out the trigger warning to be safe._

**Tags/Spoilers/Codas: **_No spoilers unless you haven't seen the early seasons._

**Disclaimer: **_I own nothing._

**Author Note: **_Thanks to Jenjoremy for the beta work. The muse decided to go torment Sam before I get back to work on J2 so blame the muse and the plot bunny for this one. Enjoy!_

**~SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN~**

An odd and heavy silence brought Sam Winchester out of a deep sleep. Sleep was rare for him these days since he spent every possible moment trying to find a way to break his older brother's deal, the deal that would be sending Dean to Hell in only three months, leaving Sam alone.

Sam had promised to find a way to break that deal, but so far nothing he'd tried had worked. Most nights he lay awake, tossing and turning. If he did manage to fall asleep, he would wake up in a cold sweat after just an hour or two. This night he'd been especially exhausted after a hard hunt that ended with him digging up a grave by himself because the damn ghost had thrown Dean hard enough to actually knock his hard-headed sibling unconscious.

Dean had woken up just in time to stop the malicious spirit from attacking Sam who was focused on salting and burning its corpse. Although Sam wanted Dean to go back to the motel so he could check him for injuries, his brother decided to go shoot pool at a local bar, which also meant he would be having a few drinks.

Not that Sam would ever say anything to stop his brother from enjoying his last few months alive, but it hurt sometimes that Dean would rather spend his time in a bar than with him. Sam immediately shoved those thoughts away because he got it, he really did; he got why Dean had pulled back from their less than normal relationship.

"'_I'm going to Hell, Sammy. The more we do this, the more attached you're gonna get to it, to me, and it'll hurt more when I'm not here._'"

Of course what Sam couldn't find the words to say was that he'd been attached to Dean since he was a toddler. His brother was everything in Sam's world: big brother, father, best friend, and now, finally, lover. Sam got that Dean was trying to protect him, but he knew that he was also protecting himself from the pain of when that deal came due.

So he'd merely patched Dean up in the Impala, put on a brave front to cover how much he was already hurting, made a weak excuse about checking out a lead on his laptop, and told Dean to go have fun. Dean dropped him off in the motel parking lot, and he crawled into bed and let the emotions come as he only did whenever he knew his brother wasn't around to see him.

Now he was awake again, and every hunter's instinct that his brother and their Dad had drilled into his head was screaming that something was very wrong in the motel room.

Sam lay still to try to listen. He could hear his brother breathing in the bed next to him, so that meant Dean had come back at some point, but he could almost feel the hair on his arms standing up as his sixth sense of danger kicked in. Sam could also swear that he was being watched so finally after several tense moments he went to move and things began to click into place.

The first thing Sam noticed was that he was on his back when he knew he'd probably fallen asleep on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. That he could shrug off since he was often a restless sleeper when he was upset, but as he continued to take inventory, his worry level continued to rise.

The next thing that caught his attention was the fact that he could feel a breeze from the motel vent blowing over his chest, and that meant his t-shirt was off. That sent up a yellow flag since Sam knew his shirt had been on when he'd fallen asleep. He never slept without a shirt unless he and Dean crashed after sex because the hunter knew it was easier to bolt in the middle of the night for a hunt or from a possible arrest if he was dressed.

The final thing, the thing that finally made the red flag shoot up in Sam's mind, was when he went to sit up only to discover that his arms had been pulled above his head and tied together before being hooked very tightly and skillfully to the headboard. How the hell had he slept through that?

That revelation immediately sent a mixture of emotions pouring through Sam. The biggest was panic because being tied up was never a good thing for a Winchester. He panic rose when he opened his eyes and realized that everything was still black; he felt the material of the blindfold that covered his eyes.

The next emotion was fear, not for himself, but for Dean…Dean. Sam's mind shot to his brother, but as he went to open his mouth, to shout for help and to wake Dean up, a hard, heavy hand clamped over his mouth and nose.

"Uh-uh, pretty boy. Rethink that move or before I slit your throat, I'll make your big brother pay first."

The voice that spoke close to Sam's ear was low, harsh, and cold, but the sharp edge of the blade that pressed against Sam's throat was colder still. He froze with his heart pounding in his ears while his mind whirled with questions of who the hell had gotten into their room, how the hell he had managed to get in, and what the hell he wanted. Then what he said dawned on his and he tensed. No one here knew they were brothers.

"Y'know, I can see what you're thinking; it's written all over that pretty face." The man chuckled, keeping his hand tight over Sam's mouth, but he did move it enough so that he could breathe through his nose. Sam breathed very carefully, trying to figure out a way out this situation. "So that we can get down to business sooner, let me fill you in on a few things. If you can focus on following my every command without question, maybe Dean will make it out of this in one piece."

Sam tried to jerk his head free while attempting to pull on the ropes binding his wrists only to gasp when the fingers tightened enough that he knew he'd have bruises, and the blade was pressed harder against his neck. He stilled.

"Your big brother's life depends on your ability to listen and follow instructions, pretty boy. So stay still or I start cutting _him_ before I mark up this baby face you have," the man growled, voice dropping even lower as the bed shifted to allow for his weight as he sat on the edge. He made a warning growl when Sam tried to kick. "You kick me and Dean pays. Now stay still and listen up. I'm gonna move my hand so we can have a reasonable talk, but don't bother to shout or scream because this dump motel is pretty empty and big brother won't be waking up for a few hours after the dose I gave him."

That made Sam's blood run cold. Whoever this was must have run across Dean in the damn bar, slipped something in his drink, and either followed him back to the motel or forced Dean to bring him back with him. All Sam knew for sure was that this was a fucked up situation. While he was scared for himself, he was even more scared for his brother, so at the moment his attacker had the upper hand and the bastard knew it.

"Now, you gonna be a good boy if I move my hand or do I have to gag you sooner than I'd planned to?" the man asked, waiting until Sam finally nodded to slowly move his hand. "Good boy. I knew you were smart enough to listen." The tip of the blade traced over Sam's cheek drawing shivers from the young hunter but not hard enough to draw blood. "If you do what I say then odds are good that both of you will make it out of this in one piece."

"Who…who are you?" Sam managed to ask. He kept his voice low, and was pleased when it sounded steadier than he thought it would. He feared that might change because this guy was too close and had worked too hard to securely tie Sam before he woke up, which limited the possible reasons for this attack. "Christo," he tossed in but only heard a low chuckle and a rough hand slapped the side of his face.

"Not a demon, pretty boy." The man seemed amused by that as he moved away from the bed. Sam could hear him moving around the room as if checking thing, and then he began to feel things hitting the bed as if being tossed beside him. "In fact, I'm nothing you and your brother have ever faced before." The man paused before continuing. "Yeah, I know who you and Dean are, Sam. I know you're hunters, and I know you're brothers…but I've been watching you for a long time, so I also know that you two are something else too."

Sam tensed because no one knew that. No one. Not even Bobby knew that they'd crossed that invisible line past being brothers years ago and had finally become lovers shortly after Jessica's death. This asshole couldn't…

"Oh, calm down. You think I'm planning on ratting you out to the 'community,' tell everyone that you and your hero aren't playing things strictly on the straight and narrow these days?" The man laughed again as he came closer, and Sam could feel the intensity of his stare even though he couldn't see anything. "Nope. In fact, you give me what I want tonight, you play nice, and when I walk out that door, you'll never see me again. But if you fight me, if you don't obey me, then big brother pays the price."

"What…is Dean okay?" Sam's voice shook now because he wasn't stupid. He could read between the words and feared he knew what this asshole wanted from him. He could admit to himself that he was scared, and it was only the threat to Dean that was making him stay still. "Did you hurt him?"

"Relax. Dean's sleeping, pretty boy. I saw him in that bar tonight and decided I was tired of waiting. I slipped a little something extra into his drink and then followed him back here." The man leaned closer so his lips were brushing Sam's ear. "He may have a little bump since he did still try to fight when I jumped him outside the door, but I slipped him another dose and tied him up all nice and tight. Gagged him too so…he might even wake up while we're playing." He licked the shell of Sam's ear and hummed when he felt the boy flinch. "You want that, pretty boy? You want big brother to watch what I'm going to do to you?"

If Sam had any remaining doubts about what was going to happen, those words pretty much wiped them clean. Sam's instinct was to fight, but he could almost see the knife on the bed and knew this guy would carry out his threat to hurt Dean if he fought, so he swallowed the bile that threatened to come up. "Please…" he whispered, closing his eyes behind the blindfold. He was mortified and wanted to crawl into himself when he felt his own damn body beginning to betray him just from the feel of the firm hand rubbing over his chest. "Please don't…hurt him. I'll…I'll do what you want."

"Just like the good boy I know you are." The man voice stayed low but smooth. "You play nice and you might make it out of this without too many bruises or cuts. It all depends on how the night goes. Now, you'll notice I haven't taken your jeans off yet. That's because I wanted to strip those with you awake. Shame I can't take the blindfold off. I sure would love to watch those big eyes get bigger and more scared as it sinks in just what you're going to let me do."

"Why…why're you doing this?" Sam bit his lip to keep whatever sound wanted to come out inside when he felt the surprising warmth of wet lips close over one of his nipples to tease it before the man sucked it into his mouth. "No…don't…God…why?"

"Because I can, pretty boy," the man replied in between licks over Sam's chest. He finally pulled back to reach for the snap and zipper. "Gonna take these clothes off so I can finally see all of you like I've been wanting to since I first saw you. Remember…you kick me it won't be good for Dean."

Sam couldn't suppress the whimper as he felt his jeans and underwear pulled off in one smooth move, leaving him naked and exposed to someone who obviously had no good intentions. His base instincts were to fight, to kick, to try to escape, but he knew that if he tried to resist, it wouldn't just be him that paid the price but his older brother as well.

He tried to listen past his own heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart in his ears to hear if Dean was moving or waking up. While he wished for rescue, it made Sam sick with fear and humiliation to think of his brother waking up to this. He didn't know if he hoped Dean regained consciousness or not.

"Son of a…" The low gravelly voice cut off and hands moved to touch Sam's legs, running up his shaking thighs and back down, then teasing fingers moved over the base of his cock. "So pretty," he murmured then hummed as he lifted the limp cock in his hand. "Hmmm, no. This won't work, pretty boy. I've seen you in those bars with him. You would go hard with just a good long look from your big brother." Sam moaned and shook his head as he felt his cock begin to harden at just the thought of his big brother. He didn't want to respond, but his body obviously had other ideas. "To keep me happy, and him healthy, I want you hard and begging me…or maybe just hard…I can use that soft mouth for something else."

"Go to hell!" Sam panicked, pulling his legs up in an attempt to shield himself as best as he could, but he couldn't muffle the yelp of pain that came when a hard hand gave a stinging slap to his thigh before his ankles were tugged back down. He felt something being fastened around his ankles. "No…stop…you can't…mmm!"

A hard ball was suddenly forced between his teeth and hooked behind his head, strong fingers gripping his jaw before teeth raked over it. "I can do whatever the hell I want, pretty boy. It's just you and me cause no one's gonna save you. You know you want this, sweetness. You want someone to tie you up, hold you down, and force you to submit. I saw the way you looked in Oklahoma, so I know what you want…and now I'm going to give it to you."

Sam went still, and all the fight drained out of him. Oklahoma had been the last time he and Dean had had sex before his brother decided to start pulling back. They'd gone to a bar, but that had been a month or so ago. The young hunter couldn't recall if he'd seen anyone looking at him or if he'd looked at anyone there. Did this guy see them there and follow them? Has he been stalking them? Had he been so distracted with breaking Dean's deal that he didn't even notice?

"You look so good like this, pretty boy." The man's voice dropped even lower as he finished hooking Sam's ankles to the bed, spreading his legs wide and leaving the boy even more exposed than before. Sam moaned in distress when he felt his damn body actually responding more.

He hadn't even jerked off much since he and Dean had stopped messing around. He'd been too busy, and now his body craved touch. It longed to feel another's hands on him even if he was tied and gagged while it happened.

"Been awhile, hasn't it?" the man asked, fingers rubbing the inside of Sam's thigh. He stuffed a couple pillows under him to raise his hips, ignoring the muffled whines of panic. "Been watching you, baby. I don't think you and your brother have been playing enough to keep you happy, and I know you haven't been playing with anyone else. This big cock sure is interested in what I'm doing; you can't hide that now can you?" He slipped his fingers down again and chuckled at the gasp and muffled words being aimed his way as he closed them around Sam's cock. "All long legs and arms, still with just that little bit of innocence I like when I play. Gonna make you scream for it, sweetie.

"I debated putting this pretty cock in a cage while I finish setting up, but I think just a ring will work. If I decide to take you with me for entertainment, and I'm thinking about it, then I'll lock your cock up because I have a fucking machine at my place that I think you'd look really hot on." He pressed his lips along Sam's stomach and then moved down slowly until he was licking the spot where thigh and groin met; the boy under him jerked. "Stay still, Sam," he growled harshly. "Gonna put a ring on so you can't come until I'm ready." He chuckled darkly. "Maybe not even then."

Sam tried to push the ballgag out but it was strapped too tightly; all he could do was make frustrated, muffled sounds until strong fingers gripped his thigh in warning, and he fell still once again.

His body wanted this even if his brain didn't. He wanted to strain, to fight like Dean taught him, but the risk to his brother was too big. He felt something close over the base of his straining and leaking cock, backstabbing thing, and knew what it was.

"We're gonna leave the ballgag in right now since you look so good with it in your mouth, but later on I might swap it out for the ring gag I brought. I do like you gagged, but I also wanna use that hot mouth. But first? We're gonna play. Or…I'm gonna play and you're gonna lay here like a good boy and let me."

At first Sam wasn't sure what that might mean, and the words sure as hell didn't do anything to calm his jumping nerves. He tried to retreat into his head, to ignore whatever pain or shame might be dished out. He'd done it before in other situations, but this night, with this man, it was harder to slip away.

He blamed his body's reactions on a definite lack of sex. He in no way wanted to make out with or respond to some random guy who developed an unhealthy attachment to him. Sam wanted Dean. He wanted to feel his brother touch him, but right then his body decided it had been without touch too long and would take this guy.

"Like this, pretty?" It was clear the man knew Sam's body did by the way he hummed low in his throat while rubbing his hand up and down the long hard body. "You're gonna like this next part too. You can't see it, so I'm going to describe what I'm doing to you…step by step. You'll feel it, too, so you and that big brain can get a really clear picture it in your head."

Sam tried to shake his head. He didn't want an explicit play-by-play description as this guy fucked him. He wouldn't let the word rape creep into his mind. This situation might be fucked up, but he had to believe he wasn't in any true danger, that there was a reason this was happening. He could only handle one nightmare at a time.

A hand, rough and calloused, touched his face softly and the hunter froze, fighting the tears that wanted to come. He could handle the asshole being cruel, mocking, or even rough, but this sudden gentle touch would break him if it kept up.

"You were crying tonight, in your sleep, pretty boy," The voice was close to Sam's ear again, the feel of hot breath on his neck and then lips on his face sending shivers though his body. The kisses trailed down to his jaw, his neck, and back up. "Something had you all shook up even before you woke up to this. Bet I know what it is."

Sam let out a soft snort from behind the gag. There was no way this guy could know what had him upset enough that he'd let himself cry in the open where Dean could see him if he came back. He irrationally wondered if Dean had seen his drying tears before their attacker took him out, but then shrugged it off; he had bigger worries at the moment.

"Yeah, y'see, I told you that I was something you boys hadn't faced before, so I know a bit more about you and Dean than you might think. I bet I know what caused my pretty boy to cry so that hard he went to sleep, really to sleep, for the first damn time in almost a week." There was a slight change to the tone but Sam was too busy trying to keep breathing to notice. He couldn't seem to slow his breathing as fear flowed through him, fear that maybe his secret was known. He felt rough denim settling between his legs; he tensed instinctively, waiting for a slap or a growl telling him again to not move, but all he felt was the warm weight of another body leaning closer. "Something bad's happening soon, isn't it? Something that's gonna take big brother away from you, and it's freaking you out. You wear guilt just like you do every other emotion, kiddo. You blame yourself for whatever he did, and it's gonna eat you up even before he's gone."

Sam wanted to scream; he wanted to tell this arrogant jackass to shut up. He didn't want to hear Dean tell him how it wasn't his fault or that he wasn't to blame for his brother going to Hell. He didn't want to listen to it from Dean, so he sure didn't want to hear it from some faceless guy who was licking his way across Sam's chest before he began to move down again.

"Rumors out there where guys like me roam say that your big brother's always looked out for you. That he took care of you, tried to keep you outta this life. I guess it was cool for him to blow his future, but not so much his baby brother…you almost got away from it…until the fuckin' life jerked you back in." His lips and teeth teased and played over Sam's skin like he was mapping every inch, trying to learn it, burn it into his memory. "I heard he screwed up and you paid the price…hmm, don't like it when I say that, do you? If you get out of this without my knife in your gut then you can try to rip my heart out…but until then stay still like a good boy."

The muffled threats coming from behind the gag didn't seem to bother the man at all. They certainly didn't stall the man's path down the tense body. Instead he intentionally let his denim covered knee rub up between Sam's spread legs to tease both his trapped cock and his filling balls until he got the low moan he was looking for.

"Now the rumor mill says Dean made a deal to save you because letting you go just wasn't an option for him. Guess it didn't quite sink in until it was too late that he'd be leaving you alone to face whatever came. He didn't consider how much it would hurt you. So now you're pushing yourself way past the point of exhaustion, trying to find a way to save his ass, but it seems like hell's determined to take it. If all that's true then here's what I think's going on…" The sound of a lid opening made Sam shiver. He was trying to stay focused on the man's words even though they were ripping into his heart…until something slick and hard slid back between his legs, past his balls, and slowly began to circle the rim of his twitching hole. Sam sucked in a desperate breath though his nose.

"I think your big brother's feeling plenty guilty…knowing he's leaving you to fend for yourself. He's just trying to avoid hurting you even more; he thought it was a good plan to pull back from you physically…" A calloused fingertip circled the rim before pushing in farther than was comfortable, but by then Sam's head wasn't registering any pain, just the rawness in the rough voice. "…sexually…emotionally…Hmmm, you're so tight. Been awhile since you've had anything back here, hasn't it? Not a finger, not one of those toys you two played with so much before it all went south, and certainly not his cock."

Sam bit down on the ball in his mouth. Suddenly he no longer cared about fear, shame, or pain. He needed to forget the emotional wounds the words had reopened, the bitterness he felt, the burning desire to wake up in Dean's arms one more time. He needed to feel _something,_ so he let himself get lost in the need his body suddenly realized it had been missing. Thick fingers began to play in his ass while other fingers stroked and rolled his balls in a heavy hand. Sam's cock was rock hard now and beginning to leak. He moaned as the cock ring prevented any hope of release.

"I watched him tonight in that bar, pretending he wasn't hurt from more than whatever nearly split his skull open. I watched him lose at pool, and he never loses at pool, because his mind, his heart wasn't in the game or at the bar or on the any number of hot skirts who were throwing themselves at him." The man applied his full body weight to keep Sam's jerking legs still while he began to use his tongue in between every few words to lick the full length of Sam's cock, lapping at the drops of pre-come that threatened to fall. The man could hear the sounds that came from the restrained hunter; he could tell that the boy was close to giving into the needs of his body. "Wanna know where his heart was, pretty boy?" he teased, as two fingers slipped up into tight heat, curving and circling until the boy was twisting as much as he could while tied down. "It was here…with you…and I think I can speak for your brother when I say that if he knew you were back here like this, he would've come back sooner."

Lips, fingers, teeth, and words all worked to bring Sam apart. He didn't want to let go, to lose control. He didn't want to let the brutal emotions swirling alongside the building lust loose because he feared if he did, he'd never be able to lock them away again.

"So tight, so hot, so needy, sweetheart." The man's tongue licked over the slit of the jerking cock until he took it in the fingers that had been tugging Sam's balls. He continued to work the two fingers up inside him, but he still hadn't hit that magical spot. "Your balls are so full…it has to hurt now. This cock, the cock that he used to suck before he took you is dripping so much, like it wants me to swallow you down and make you come…if I let you," he teased, grip tightening around the now throbbing cock. Sam moaned, head thrashing mindlessly while he tried to move his hips to either find friction for his trapped cock or to get those fingers to move, to touch the spot inside him that Dean always could find without problem.

"You stay up all the time working on that damn laptop trying to find old lore, wives tales, or anything that just might save him. You push yourself; you don't eat; you barely sleep. You try to hide the nights you lock yourself in the bathroom to sob yourself to sleep like you did tonight. You blame yourself and cry for someone to not take him because it was your fault, but it wasn't. It ain't your fault, and maybe it ain't his fault either." Lips kissed the tip of the dripping cock. "Now, it's time for you to let go because I am gonna make you come so hard that when you pass out this time, it'll be for a better reason than grief over something that hasn't happened yet."

Sam wanted to argue; he wanted to say he wouldn't come, that he didn't want to come even though he knew that would be a lie, but then several things all happened at once.

He felt the cock ring come loose before he could even let out a muffled cry not to take it off, then he felt those suddenly skillful fingers move inside him to find and stroke his prostate. As he bucked frantically, a hot mouth closed over his cock and began to suckle it deeply.

It was all too much and with a scream of a name that the ball in his mouth muffled, Sam felt his orgasm rip through him with an unexpected force. It left him thrusting up as much as he could with his limbs still tightly tied to the bed and the weight that pinned him down.

The touch on his prostate remained constant while strong lips sucked his cock to milk it, and him, through the climax until Sam was sobbing, finally going limp with a whimper. Even with the blindfold on, he could tell when his eyes rolled back as his body gave in to the need to sleep.

As consciousness began to return, Sam wasn't sure how long he'd been out or what might have happened to him after he'd passed out. He flexed his arms carefully, relieved to find them loose from the ropes. His legs were also free and he was lying on his side with a strong warm body pressed against him. There was one arm wrapped around his waist and another slowly, carefully carding through his sweat soaked hair.

Sam tensed for a moment as warm lips pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck, but he began to relax again when he realized the blindfold and gag were gone. He opened his eyes to see that he was still on his bed; the other bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, which he guessed was true. "Hey," he murmured, voice ragged and dry from the ballgag. When a bottle of water was held out, he rose up a bit and drank from it gratefully.

"Hey." Dean kissed his neck and then kissed a bruise on the side of his face. "You okay?" he asked, worry plain in his deep, husky voice. He sounded strained; he'd been doubting this plan from the start, scared to death that Sam wouldn't be able to relax or let go.

"Spent and still tired but…yeah, I'm good.," Sam set the water aside and rolled to his back, recognizing the look in his big brother's green eyes. "You?"

Dean's lips curved in a dry smile as he brushed his thumb along another bruise that he wished he hadn't left. "Oh, I love coming back from the bar to see that you'd finally crashed by crying yourself out again." He snorted, gently tugging Sam's face closer to share a slow kiss, something they hadn't shared in weeks. "Freaked me out that maybe you didn't know it was me at first."

"I didn't really when I first woke up. Took me a little bit to figure things out," Sam admitted with a yawn, quickly grabbing onto his brother's hand before he could pull it back. "Please, Dean. Don't leave me tonight." He shivered as his body settled down from the adrenaline of the night. "Still too raw."

"Not leaving you tonight, Sammy," he promised thickly, pulling the blanket up over Sam while letting him curl up against him. Sam's head ended up resting against Dean's chest. "I meant what I said to you. I thought pulling back was the right thing to do but…it wasn't. It's not fair to take away the one thing I can still give you while I can so…I'll make that up to you."

"Even if it's just feeling you holding me at night, I'll take it, Dean." Sam was shocked at how tired he still felt, but then he frowned. "Dean? Did you…I mean, do you need me to…mmm."

Dean's lips kissing him, tongue slipping into his mouth, cut the question off and left Sam gasping. "Nah, I'm good, little brother," he assured him, not bothering to tell him he came in his jeans right around the time Sam had come in his mouth. "Close your eyes. When you wake up and shower, I'll handle any bruises I might've left." He chewed his lip a second. "I'm sorry if I…"

"It's fine…really…you did what you knew I needed." And Sam was fine. He knew he'd have bruises and would be sore, but he really did feel more relaxed. There was only one thing he was still curious about. "How'd you fake me hearing your breathing? I really did think you were in the other bed."

"Oh, I taped that a few weeks ago…just in case I ever needed it." Dean shrugged easily, smirking. "Never thought I'd use it while ravishing my brother."

"Yeah, thanks for that." Sam smiled a little more as Dean's arms closed around him. "I will keep trying to save you, Dean," he murmured quietly.

Pressing a kiss into the top of Sam's hair, Dean laid his head back to sigh. "I know you will, Sammy," he returned, hoping for Sam's sake that he could, but knowing that he needed to try to prepare his brother for the worst as well

Sam mumbled something sleepily as he shifted closer, letting his eyes drift shut as sleep come over him. The room wasn't quiet this time as he could hear Dean's heart as well as the low sounds of the TV that his brother must have turned on. "Dean?"

"Yeah, baby boy?" Dean sounded as tired as Sam felt when he answered, but his fingers kept moving through Sam's hair in a soothing motion.

That nickname Sam would accept, but he opened one eye to peer up at his brother. "If you ever call me 'pretty boy' again I will hurt you," he warned, and then dropped off to sleep with his brother's laugh in his ear. "Thanks, Dean."

"Love you too, Sammy." Dean smiled and let himself finally fall asleep once he felt Sam relax. He hoped Sam would be able to sleep all night; that his brother's nightmares would stay away for one night so that Sam could dream peacefully.

**The End**


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